Camden Harbor, Maine

After leaving Rockport harbor, on foot, I stopped to ask directions from an older couple out for a Saturday morning stroll.

“How do I get to Camden?”

“Oh,” they said, stretching out the word, “go that-a-way, for a mile or two. You’re bound to get there.”

Their accent was strong. Their faces were weathered in similar patterns. Their smiles were friendly. I believed them (although the distance thing was a little unclear).

I checked my watch. I still had two hours before I needed to catch my ride to Portland airport. So, I set off for Camden.

_MGL6588_Camden Grazing LandForests, meadows, farmland. I was surprised at the rich ruralness along the coast. Between Rockport and Camden there were very few homes. Every so often, I could catch a glimpse of the water through the trees. But mostly, just the trees, thick and green, dripping with moss.

After about an hour of walking, I started to wonder if I was on the right road. Then suddenly, I could see it, through the trees, Camden harbor, unmistakably beautiful.

Camden Harbor is beautiful, through  the trees.
Camden Harbor is beautiful, through the trees.

Clear blue water dotted with bobbing sailboats, lush green trees rising to meet the blue sky.

I wax poetic.

In all fairness, I was pretty thirsty by this time and may have been slightly delirious. I didn’t bring a water bottle with me and I had been walking for a few hours.

So, after buying a water bottle in a local pharmacy, I took a few pictures and set off back to Rockport and my journey home.

Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. However, next time I will bring plenty of bug repellant.   The mosquitoes enjoyed me a lot more than I enjoyed them. Be that as it may, Rockport and Camden, Maine, are picturesquely quaint, in the summer. Not in the winter. I spent a winter in Maine, once. I can barely speak of it…even now…But that’s another story…


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